Never
by Leanan Sidhe
Summary: Catherine, best friend of Wendy, has longed to be visited by the boy. The boys need a new mother and this one sings, but what is to happen when Catherine meets the not so dead as thought Hook? Is it possible to love both sinister man and insolent boy?
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the book Peter Pan or any of it's movies although the look I'm aiming for is for the new one that just let out this Christmas. I wish I owned it's version of Captain Hook (god who wouldn't) and I wish I owned Peter's smile. I do own any characters you have not to hear of especially my main character Catherine Morgan.  
  
I'm old, so old.  
  
I can't ever go back.  
  
I haven't ever been there.  
  
Neverland  
  
Perhaps it was because I never did do Spring cleaning, or never kept my window open.  
  
But I did believe and I still do.  
  
So isn't that enough to have  
  
One  
  
Last  
  
Chance?  
  
"Darling, have you seen my ruby necklace?" Mother called from her room across the hall.  
  
My quill sped across my writing paper.  
  
"Dear? Have you seen it?"  
  
"Did you look in your jewelry box?" I asked back, still not stopping the flow of words.  
  
"Dear," Father's voice came pleasant and deep, "In my opinion you don't need them." He chuckled.  
  
"Don't you use your flattery on me, Mr. Morgan," Mother laughed, "save it for the people at the Smith's dinner party tonight."  
  
"Will the Vihelms be there?" Father asked, cautiously.  
  
"They certainly will." She answered, I could hear the smile in her voice.  
  
"Spite!"  
  
"John!" Mother exclaimed, scolding him.  
  
I felt myself smiling as I continued writing.  
  
"Catherine...." Father called.  
  
"Mmmn hmnn?' I mumbled back.  
  
"Turn around please, so I can talk to you."  
  
"Just one.....moment," I gritted my teeth as the cramp in my hand tightened. "There." I proclaimed, dropping my quill and massaging my hand, I turned around in my writing desk seat.  
  
Father stood framed in the doorway in his new dress suit, his glasses perched upon his nose.  
  
"Why, father, you look quite dashing."  
  
He chuckled again, walking forward, "Thank you, Catherine. We will be back around midnight, and you are not to sneak over to the Darlings house tonight. We want you safe."  
  
"Yes, father." I promised grudgingly.  
  
"All right then....." he said giving me a glance of doubt. His eyes caught sights of my works, "What have you been writing now?" He reached out a hand to them.  
  
"No, father don't it's........it's not finished!" I made a wild attempt to snatch them back from his hands.  
  
"Too late now, Catherine." He said smiling, smugly. His eyes scanned over my hasty writing. His face fell slightly, his eyes becoming slowly sober, "Catherine......" He sighed.  
  
I lowered my eyes, ashamed.  
  
"I thought you were over this.......infatuation with fairy stories."  
  
I played with the delicate dark blue velvet lining of my night robe, nervously.  
  
"I thought you told me you had moved past these ideas........flying.....pirates and savages......"  
  
"Yes, you thought wrong!" I snapped suddenly.  
  
Father took an unsure step back away from me. He was frightened of me for a second. I was frightened for more. I wrapped a hand around my throat in alarm. The voice had been mine but years younger when was a daily happening to argue with father.  
  
When next father spoke it was with the warning hardness of ice, "Now you listen to me, Catherine. We have let this continue for a while now, but it must come to a stop. You are sixteen years of age.......and you must start to grow up."  
  
I glared up at him.  
  
"Do you understand me, Catherine?" He peered at me grimly from behind his glasses.  
  
"Yes, father." I murmured.  
  
"Very well then. Mother and I will be back soon." He leaned forward and kissed me gently, but always somewhat reserved, on the forehead.  
  
I stood still, my hands clenched at my sides and waited until I heard the door slam downstairs. I let a harsh sigh escape from my lips. I began to pace.  
  
It had been four years since Wendy, my best friend and neighbor, had told me of her adventures with her dear Peter Pan. It was four years since I absolutely refused to grow up, and despite my faithfulness in Wendy's soft spoken tales, I had yet to be visited by the boy. I was beginning to doubt and the doubt brought despair in never having an adventure of my own, of knowing something beyond my room.  
  
Then the anger came. It was his fault, the forgetful boy! Why couldn't I go and join them and be their mother? (for truth be told they needed one badly) Why not me?!  
  
The answer hit me hard in the stomach, like a punch, stealing my breath.  
  
Because.......I was too old.  
  
"Too old," Father's voice ran through me, "You must grow up."  
  
"Getting old, Kate." Wendy had told me herself, "All children, except one, grow up."  
  
"Can't remember how to fly." Came the imagined voice of Peter Pan.  
  
I cursed the voice I had never heard. And to spite his memory, I took the many stories I had written and with a cry of rage I threw them into the fire, the others I ripped to shreds and they in turn were thrown in as well.  
  
Sobbing, I dropped to my knees in front of the fire. As stupid as it was, I cried for my passed years that I could never get back, for the Neverland I would never see.  
  
Too old, too old......  
  
Sixteen.......  
  
Too old..........  
  
My cries began to soften to simple gluttoral moans and then merely to sniffles and whimpers.  
  
I must have cried for longer than I had previously thought because the fire had died to embers, glowing softly, the charred remains of my stories curling like black snakes. I closed my eyes, but the tears burned behind my lids like the fire had been.  
  
I sat in silence when what felt like a summer breeze blew past my cheeks, and the smell of honey suckle and lilies clung to my hair. Faintly, I heard the sound of bells.  
  
"Girl," a voice whispered, "why are you crying?"  
  
What, would I now hear his voice wherever I was, asleep or awake? Wiping my eyes on the back of my sleeve, I turned and found a small boy of fourteen silloetted in my window.  
  
My mouth managed to whisper these words back, "I wasn't crying." I stood then, gathering the thick underskirt. Seeing my height he seemed scandalized.  
  
"You're not a girl, you're a lady!" He protested.  
  
"I'm not that old!" I exclaimed rather annoyed, "I'm only two years older than you! Certainly not old enough to be a lady." I muttered.  
  
"I thought......." he began, "I thought you were a girl."  
  
"I am a girl, you half wit!" I exclaimed indignantly.  
  
"No......you're old...." He had not moved from the window and he looked as if he would flee, as if my age unnerved him.  
  
The word prickled me unpleasantly.  
  
I started forward to shake him if it came to that and beg him to take me to Neverland. But the movement startled him and he leapt from my window, "No! Wait!" I cried as I sprang to the window. I stopped short. I leaned out the window farther.  
  
"Oh my........" I murmured. I saw him, simply floating on air as a beam of light whizzed by his ear.  
  
I pulled in a sharp breath as the dazzling form landed on his shoulder and I caught sight of delicate, translucent........wings.  
  
"Tink!" The name sprang from my lips, "Peter, is that Tink?!"  
  
I got a chorus of bells for a response.  
  
"How do you know Tink?" Peter asked, flying closer to be nose to nose with me, "And how do you know me?"  
  
I wanted to pull back, but that would show weakness and the last thing I wanted was to seem weak to him.  
  
"Why, the stories of course......"  
  
"Stories....?" Peter drew back, his eyebrows raised in expectation, "You know stories?" His eyes lit up.  
  
"Oh, I know so many of them, Peter!"  
  
"Really?!" He asked excitedly.  
  
"Oh yes, stories like Rupunzle, Sleeping Beauty, the Arabian Nights....."  
  
He flew nearer, and I pulled back into the room as he flew in.  
  
"Treasure Island....." I continued running over to my bookshelf, "of course that one's about pirates......."  
  
Peter sailed over to me, "Do any of them die gruesome deaths?" He asked.  
  
"Quite a few." I replied giggling.  
  
"It's perfect." He smiled, and at that moment I knew how Wendy fell in love with him. The quirk of his lips caught my attention. I clutched the book to me. It was right there, it was perfectly clear in the right hand corner. The kiss. How many times had I seen it on Wendy? I reached out my hand to it, "It was you......" His hand reached out and held mine, "....wasn't it? That's what the secret smile of hers' was.....it was you."  
  
"Who?" He asked, he was still holding my hand.  
  
"Peter......" my expression darkened, in remorse, "Peter, you don't remember her......?"  
  
"Who? Is this a game?"  
  
I searched his face for any recollection of my friend, and found none.  
  
"Wen.......oh my dear lord!" I yelped alarmed as an orb of gold light broke apart our hands, followed by several sharp tugs on the dark locks of my hair. The angry buzz of bells alerted me to the cause.  
  
"Tink!" Peter shouted and pried the pixie from my hair, "What is the matter with you?!"  
  
There was a sharp response from Ms. Bell.  
  
"You silly ass." He translated, "She's a funny thing." He said smiling again.  
  
"It's strange," I said wincing as I discovered the small knots Tinker Bell had tied in the strands of my hair, "I wonder as to why I do not find it at all humerous." I muttered, going over to my dresser, retrieving my brush to sort out all the hideous mess.  
  
"Well, she's not very polite," He said matter of factly, "she's quite the common fairy."  
  
"I can see that," I replied, running the brush through my hair, "But I quite doubt she is common," I said putting the brush aside and coming towards the light being on his shoulder, "I think she's the most lovely creature." I couldn't help smiling.  
  
Tink's harmony of bells changed into a slightly lighter note.  
  
"I suppose so," Peter replied, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, as he began to walk around my room, picking up such things as my perfume and nearly spraying it in his eyes, blinding him, of course Tink got the full blast of it. She zoomed over in her beam of radiant light and pinched me as if it were all my fault. I simply smiled at her attentions.  
  
When Peter made his way over to my writing desk, I followed.  
  
"What's this?" He asked holding up a small manuscript, the only one I hadn't burned.  
  
Peter Pan by Wendy Moira Angela Darling ( a fantastical work in progress)  
  
I took it gently from him, "It's a story." I said softly.  
  
"Well," he said rising into the air as if he were merely resting on it, "what's it about?"  
  
"You."  
  
He leaned forward, pleased, "Is it really? Was I magnificent? Was I clever and wonderful in it?"  
  
"Yes, quite." I assured him dutifully, for truth he was.  
  
"Of course I was!" he exclaimed proudly, rising higher. And then her crowed. The very same crow I heard Wendy try to imitate in the past.  
  
I clapped my hands happily, bouncing on the balls of my feet.  
  
"Oh, Peter crow again! Crow again!" I laughed.  
  
He did.  
  
I stood in complete awe of him, "Brilliant, Peter. Simply brilliant."  
  
He bowed graciously at the waist. When he arose that slight smirk of his was splayed across his face. I laughed again.  
  
"So, how do you know all of your stories?"  
  
I waved my hand at the bookshelf, "From these........"  
  
"Books!" Peter sneered, "Oh loathsome books.....!"  
  
"Oh, no Peter! Books are far from that!"  
  
"Do they not make you study from them at schools?" Peter asked, picking up a book about mathmatics.  
  
"Well, yes........" I admitted, and jumped when he ran the leather bound book through with his dagger. "But Peter.....stories are also in books."  
  
"Oh....." He said looking down at the slaughtered book, regretfully for as much as a second, "well, then I shall bring them back to Neverland with me!" He smiled a triumphant smile, "Tink!"  
  
Tinker Bell flew over to my bookshelf and began dusting it with her fairy glow. The books began moving of their own device, "Farewell girl- lady, many thanks for your stories." He said flying out the window, the books following them, some of them hesitating. Tink stopped long enough to stick her tongue out at me.  
  
"Peter!" I cried, running after him to the window.  
  
"Yes?" He asked turning back to look at me curiously.  
  
"Do you know how to read?"  
  
He looked at me oddly.  
  
"You have to know how to read to know the stories........" His expression darkened, he turned away.  
  
"Peter! I know how to read, I could read the stories to the Lost Boys....I know songs too! I could sing them lullabyes....." He began to slowly face me, "I could be their mother....." I finished hopefully.  
  
He was fully turned around now and a disquieting smile was inching across his lips.  
  
His small hand grabbed my wrist in startling hardness, "Yes...." he whispered mischieviously, "you could........and you will!" He began to pull me out.  
  
"Peter..." I began fearfully, "teach me to fly."  
  
He smiled charmingly again, "First," he said raising his eyebrows, "you need a bit of fairy dust," with this he plucked Tink from the air despite her protests and held her over my head. I felt each spark of light him me like warm rain, "and then all you need is a......."  
  
"Happy thought." I finished for him, looking up into his eyes.  
  
He nodded, "Yes."  
  
What if I have more than one happy thought?"  
  
"All the better."  
  
I closed my eyes. I thought of singing with the mermaids, fighting pirates maybe one even more terrifying than Hook had been, dancing around a bonfire with the natives, flying to the stars.....seeing them all.  
  
A boyish laugh made me open my eyes. I was no longer on the ground. I held on to Peter's arm.  
  
"You're a natural." He claimed.  
  
"Yes indeed....." I whispered, "naturally afraid."  
  
His hands held my shoulders hard, "That you must not be. There is nothing more dangerous than your fear."  
  
"Not even falling?" I asked trying to joke.  
  
His expression remained serious, "Do not fear."  
  
I gave him a tight smile.  
  
"There are fairies....." He whispered, "every child has a fairy, every child.....even you."  
  
"You mean, my fairy's in Neverland?" My eyes widened at the thought of seeing my own fairy, talking with her....  
  
"Ow!" I cried as my head hit the ceiling.  
  
Peter spun around laughing, "That must have been a large happy thought!"  
  
"I think it was!" I replied laughing as I rubbed my head.  
  
I heard the downstairs door open.  
  
Father!" I exclaimed.  
  
"You must leave behind it all, or you can not go." Peter warned me.  
  
"Then I leave it." I assured him.  
  
Another boyish smile graced me, "Then let's go, second star to the right......"  
  
"....and straight on til morning."  
  
"Yes......Neverland."  
  
Father's footsteps climbed the stairs, as the remaining books flew out the window.  
  
He was at the bedroom door as Peter took a hold of my hand.  
  
"Catherine?" Came his deeply familiar voice.  
  
"Leave it behind." Peter commanded of me again.  
  
"Catherine, why is this door locked? Catherine?"  
  
"Wait....." I begged of Peter, as I broke from his grasp.  
  
"Catherine!" Father pounded on the door, "Grace! I can't get to Catherine!"  
  
I swapped up Wendy's small twine bound manuscript from my writing table, rolled it up and put it in the pocket of my robe, which merely covered my full underskirt, white blouse and corset.  
  
"Now, I leave it." I told him.  
  
He grinned as if he knew this would always have been my choice.  
  
He held out his hand to me.  
  
"Catherine! Oh god, Catherine, please open up!"  
  
I almost turned back to Father's voice when I heard the despair in it.  
  
Peter's voice pulled me back, as he whispered in my ear, "Come with me."  
  
I turned and looked into his eyes. His eyes that had never held fear, or doubt, or disbelief.....I wanted that again.  
  
His hand still waited.  
  
"Catherine!!"  
  
I took it, "I will come with you."  
  
"I know."  
  
I supposed Father and Mother broke through the door just as my feet left the floor again for the last time. And I suppose I would have heard my father call out another time.....if Peter and I hadn't been laughing as we flew to the stars.  
  
"Peter, there are so many of them....." I murmured as we sailed among the stars.  
  
"They're very funny." Peter laughed.  
  
"You talk to them?"  
  
"Yes, don't you?" He asked me. When I didn't answer he tugged me along, "Come on! I want to show you something!"  
  
He brought me nearer to a star that seemed to quiver with it's light of white fire. Peter took my hand in his and brought it to the unnatural flame. It curled around my hand like smoke, traveling up my arm, winding around it. You know the feeling in your throat when you take a big sip of hot chocolate, and so this felt as if the fire itself ran through me and everything I was, filling me. I imagined the star was now in the irises of my eyes.  
  
I turned to stare at Peter amazed, "What was that?"  
  
"That," he said smiling, "was hello."  
  
I merely gazed at him in absolute wonder.  
  
"Come on!" He shouted, spinning away as if he were now suddenly disinterested. He grabbed my hand, "We can't keep Neverland waiting for it's new mother....by the way, what's your name?"  
  
I told him my childhood name, as he pulled me faster into the dawning of a large star ahead of us, "Kaaaaaaate!!!!!!!!!!" 


	2. The New Captain how omnious! how fun!, t...

Disclaimer: You know how it goes I own nothing blah blah blah, except any character you have yet to hear of, so maybe I own quite a lot actually, sadly not the Captain nor the boy.  
  
No one really knows how long it takes to get to Neverland. Sometimes it seems ages have passed by you, others as if it had merely been a blink of an eye.  
  
I fell asleep on a strong current of Northern wind. I awoke some time later to see Peter fast asleep next to me. Wendy did forget to mention one thing........Peter snores!  
  
I entertained the idea of just staying like this forever, but the outline of an island was blotting against the rise of a glorious sun.  
  
"Neverland....." I whispered.  
  
At that moment Peter woke up with a start, "I was NOT asleep!"  
  
"Oh, of course not, Peter." I smiled knowingly.  
  
"I wasn't!"  
  
I began laughing so hard that I lost my concentration and began to fall. Peter's hand flashed forward and grasped my arm.  
  
"I wasn't in trouble!" I protested.  
  
"Oh, of course not, Kate." He replied in an exact imitation of me only moments before.  
  
I regained my balance and we flew toward the enchanted island.  
  
"Are you mocking me?!" I asked, pleasingly shocked.  
  
He held me with his clear of morning light eyes, "Never."  
  
"Now for the tour." Peter said, pulling me down to the clouds, which were orange and gold tinged from the light of the sun. Often times at carnivals that I had gone to when I was younger, there had been a sugary confection called, cotton candy. The clouds looked exactly the same and when we landed on one swollen cloud I imagined I could smell the sweetness in the air.  
  
"Amazing!" I laughed as I stood on the cloud seeing the sun break over the horizon. Peter plopped down and pulled me along with him.  
  
"That over there," he said pointing to a small village near the mountain, "is the Indian Village.......and that is the Mermaids Lagoon......."  
  
My eyes scanned over everything, taking in as much as I was able.  
  
"And right below us........." Peter continued.  
  
"......The Jolly Roger?!" I yelped, alarmed, "but......but.....I thought it was destroyed and forgotten."  
  
"A ship is never forgotten by pirates." Peter informed me.  
  
"But who would have the gall to dare Captain that ship, now that Hook is dead?"  
  
"Who?"  
  
I looked at him incredulously, "What do you mean 'who?' only your most feared opponent!"  
  
"I fear no one." Peter told me defensively.  
  
I sighed shaking my head thoughtfully, and then laughed, "No, you really don't do you? You truly fear nothing."  
  
He smiled again and I thought even if I saw it a hundred hundred times in one day, nothing would ever prepare me for it.  
  
"I suppose it could have been Captained by a pirate by that name at one time, but now there is a new Captain."  
  
"Who.......?" I began.  
  
"I don't know," he frowned, "The others have kept his name in complete secrecy so that not even the moon or the sun knows his name."  
  
"Sounds quite ominous." I shivered.  
  
"Sounds like fun." Peter replied.  
  
"Oh dreadful fun." I agreed. I paused in a moment of silence as the strains of a vulgar pirate chanty wafted up to us on the fine breeze. "Do you truly not remember Captain James Hook?"  
  
And for a moment I thought he was struggling to grasp a shadow of the past and that he almost had caught it, when he shook his head, "No, I do not."  
  
"Hmmn......." I hummed, "Well I shall have to refresh your memory with a story, shan't I?"  
  
"Yes, but first you must be properly introduced to the Lost Boys."  
  
With that we flew down, passing by the ship. My eyes caught on the large white sails, "Wait, Peter......I have an idea." I gave him my own mischievious grin, as I flew to the sails.  
  
"Hand me your dagger, Peter." I instructed. He did so.  
  
He kept watch as I went about my fine artwork. "There." I said finished. Glancing at it, Peter's smile quirked as if he were holding back a flood of giggles.  
  
"Very clever."  
  
"I do try." I smiled in return.  
  
With that we flew off in search of the Lost Boys, leaving behind the message I had ripped into the white sheets of the Jolly Roger sails.  
  
'HELLO BOYS! MOTHER'S HOME!"  
  
Peter and I landed amongst the wild trees and ferns of the jungle that covered most of Neverland.  
  
Peter signed to show me to be silent and then from his waist he pulled out a thing of lovely wood made pipes. He waggled his brows and played quite a spritely jig on them. Suddenly a call rang out from the tops of the trees.  
  
"Peter!"  
  
"Peter's back?"  
  
"Of course you twit!"  
  
"Peter, is that you?"  
  
"Who else can play the pipes like that?!"  
  
"I can!"  
  
"No you can't, you're horrible!"  
  
"I'm getting better!"  
  
"Peter's back!!"  
  
The air was filled with their frantic cries, and I spun around in a circle looking up into the trees to find faces to match the many voices.  
  
And then.....there!  
  
And there..........  
  
And there!  
  
It seemed they came to life from the very wood of the large trees, springing from the inside of the trunks.  
  
"Oi, Peter, 'o's that wich ya?" One little boy with loud red hair and freckles called out as he took hold of a vine and slipped down on it toward us. Others followed suit, about five more or so. A scrawny black haired lad, two boys with chestnut curly locks perhaps at one time brothers, and the youngest had the bluest eyes and hair that looked as if it were silver mined from black caves.  
  
They all came to land right before us. I tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear, shyly as the gazed up at me.  
  
"This, boys," Peter said proudly stepping to the side to show me off, "Is your new mother!"  
  
There was a moment of silence.  
  
"Wha's that, Peter?" The eldest with red hair asked curiously.  
  
"Is that what mother's look like?"  
  
"How would I know, I can't remember?!"  
  
"Ah, that because you can't remember ANYTHING, on account of your small brain!"  
  
The air was warm with their arguments, until the smallest with his startling blue eyes and silver moonbeam hair stepped forward and peered at me. He took hold of my hand, and I found myself kneeling before him.  
  
His small pale hand cupped my cheek handsomely, as he raised my head and my eyes met his.  
  
For one terrible and brief moment I thought he would stand back and shout, "You're no mother! What do you take us for?! Mother indeed!"  
  
But he merely leaned forward and asked in a breathy whisper, "Do you tell stories?"  
  
I blinked, surprised, "Aye, and sing too."  
  
"And would you hold us if we woke from bad dreams?"  
  
"Every time." I answered.  
  
"Would you protect us from ghoulies and ghosties?"  
  
"And wolves dressed as Grandmothers?" I asked, "With my very life, yes."  
  
He stood back from me then, "Then you are our mother."  
  
I glanced at Peter who smiled knowingly.  
  
"Do I have a mother?" The scrawny black haired darling asked.  
  
"Silly, she's right there in front of you!"  
  
"Oh......right!"  
  
"Lads, let your mother have some room to breathe!" Peter laughed when they began to smother me in tight hugs.  
  
"Now who," I asked nipping at the blonds nose, "wants to hear a story?"  
  
"Me!"  
  
"No, me!"  
  
"And me!"  
  
I suddenly realized that all my books had not followed us into the forest.  
  
"Peter, this is less than half at best." I informed him frankly.  
  
"All those poor books lost in the wild!" Shouted one of the chestnut twins.  
  
"Being drowned by mermaids!"  
  
"Scalped by the savages!"  
  
"Being gutted by grisly pirates!!"  
  
"We must save them!" Peter declared gallantly, "Can't let stories go to waste on ugly pirates, won't do at all."  
  
"No, indeed," I replied succinctly, "We shall have to find them. We shall make it a game! For every book found, the son who finds it shall get a....." I looked for something on my person to give them, finally noticing the charm bracelet on my wrist fill around the way with thimbles, "......shall get a kiss!"  
  
The boys nearly stumbled over themselves, anxious to start finding the books.  
  
"But first we shall just make due with these," I said pointing to the number of books that littered the small ground around us.  
  
My hand unconsciously went to the manuscript in my pocket, 'No, not that one,' I thought, 'Not yet.'  
  
I picked up, "Swan Lake" and as they helped me climb to their house in the trees I began to speak in a voice every girl adopts to when she knows she is performing for an audience, "Now.......once upon a time......."  
  
Peter's smile grew. 


	3. My this is quite a surpriseLikewise

Disclaimer: Holy Jiminny! I'm sick this weekend so what better to do with the time when I'm not allowed to do anything then to update! I don't own Peter or his untapped sexual energy, and by god I wish I could say I owned Hook, but (le sigh) I DO!! Not really but I call him!  
  
The boys I found were dear little ones. The red haired boy was Speckles, a rather rambunctious and brave lad. Then there was the raven haired, Black, who was kind and gentle by nature and had the odd ability of asking strange and out of place questions. The chestnut twins went by Dum and Dee, they hardly did anything without the help and the companionship of the other. Finally, there was Elf, who had been the first to accept me into their hold. It was whispered to me by Peter that he was a changeling boy. An elf child traded shortly after birth for a human.  
  
So these were my little men and I loved them like only a mother could.  
  
They had moved their ingenius fort to the top of the trees, rather than under them as it had been previously. They were light enough to rest in the woody boughs without fear of falling. I was too heavy for the tops of trees and settled for living under one. Someway away was a drooping willow, with strands of leaves so thick it made a domed ceiling above heads and circular walls. It reminded me of the canopy of sheets I had often made as a child for my secret hideouts. Warm and safe, upon beds of Queen Anne's Lace, Babies Breath, with the perfume of Lilies of the Valley, and the presence of every type of butterfly imaginable. This was my house, and outside on warm nights (every night was warm in Neverland) we would sit around a small fire and read stories.  
  
Peter had a bad habit of sneaking up behind the young ones and myself. He would startle us when we were in the midsts of a spine tingling ghost story.  
  
This night we were finishing the tale of the Velveteen Rabbit and after consoling Speckles and Black over their tears of happiness at the end, we sat in a sweet silence as I rocked Elf's small form in my arms. Peter, himself, sat quiet, as if musing over the story.  
  
"Mother?" Elf murmured, half asleep.  
  
"Yes, sweet?"  
  
"Is that the last story?"  
  
I looked down at him, his small fist closed about the blue velvet sash of my robe.  
  
"Hardly." I smiled at him, "Now the adventure begins........"  
  
Everyone straightened up at this, coming to life.  
  
"There are others." I reminded them.  
  
"The Lost Books!" Dum and Dee chorused frantically.  
  
"Yes. The Lost Books for the Lost Boys."  
  
"They will be found!" Speckles declared valiantly, getting to his feet.  
  
"Later." I told them severely, "Now, I believe it is.......BEDTIME!"  
  
There were groans and protests of the strongest nature.  
  
"No arguments! Now wash your faces, clean your teeth, and prepare for bed."  
  
With grumbling they moved to do as I bade.  
  
"But Mother, we never so such things." Elf tugged on my sleeve.  
  
"Why, so you are right!" I shouted happily, "So we shall not break tradition and start now! In bed and I shall sing you asleep."  
  
They scrambled up the trees into their nests, crawling into bed.  
  
"What's it to be tonight, boys?" I asked when it seemed everyone was settled.  
  
"Hansel and Gretal!"  
  
"No, we heard that last night!"  
  
"My Lagan Love!"  
  
"BLACK!!" The twins shouted annoyed, for he always asked for the same song.  
  
"The Lullabye." Came the feather soft reply from Elf's nest.  
  
"Ah, yes, but of course......" I murmured, remembering.  
  
The others sighed in disappointment as the song was now picked, and then sighed again drawn into sleep by the song.  
  
"I'll set you aswing in a purple bell  
  
On a Lady's finger  
  
Where brown bees linger  
  
And loiter long  
  
I'll set you aswing  
  
In a fairy dell to the silver ring  
  
Of a fairy song........"  
  
The music flew from my lips, seeing each of them safely into their many dreams. When I finished and the last note hung heavy on the full exotic air, I made my way quietly down from the trees and to my own house.  
  
Peter was still on the log, not having moved in all this time. The fire had burned to embers, and still he sat, his head resting upon his knuckles, deep in thought.  
  
"Peter........?" I asked softly approaching him, "Peter, what is it?"  
  
"It all seems so very familiar........." He stated softly, "The stories.......and a mother telling them.......but....." He faltered. I sat down next to him. "But........I do not believe she was you, Kate." Peter said finally looking up into my eyes.  
  
I blinked away the second of jealousy I had felt for whatever mother he had had before me.  
  
"What was her name?" I asked of him. All the while screaming at him to remember, "Wendy! Wendy!"  
  
His brow furrowed in distress, "I can't remember." He whispered.  
  
I looked at him a moment longer.  
  
"You will." I couldn't tell him then, I found myself unable. I wanted this all to be mine, I wanted him to be mine if only for a while. I didn't want to share him yet.  
  
I flicked a piece of hair that hanged down in his face, and smirked, "Come on, we have a rescue mission to conduct tomorrow, and even wonderfully marvelous boy need rest before yet another adventure."  
  
He smiled back, flashing those boyish whites at me. "Dawn. When the first cock crows." He exclaimed cheerfully.  
  
"Or when you do." I added thoughtfully.  
  
We fell to a heap on the mossy ground, clutching our sides, rolling in laughter, as tears of mirth slid down our cheeks.  
  
We both found the comment completely ridiculous but all the same that fact seemed to drive us into a frenzy of giggles.  
  
I felt as if I were ten.  
  
And it felt good.  
  
"Form ranks!" Peter commanded.  
  
The Lost Boys scrambled into their assigned places.  
  
"As you all know, we have lost some brave comrades of our spectacular library." I addressed them, coming forward. "The time has come to set out on a perilous journey to find them."  
  
"Pear-u-lost?" Speckles repeated the word in his mouth as if it were a whole grape fruit.  
  
"You lost some pears, Mother?" Black asked concerned.  
  
"Oh dear me, no!" I cried, shaking my head, my dark red hair swirling about with each jerk, "Perilous means full of peril, Black, darling."  
  
"You dolt." Dee and Dum sniggered.  
  
"Soldiers!" Peter barked, "Attention is requested!"  
  
"Yes, well," I continued, swallowing back a laugh, "It is a game. A race! And the person who brings back the most number of books shall win!"  
  
"Win what? Mother win what?" Elf asked, positively shaking with anticipation.  
  
"The surprise!" I whispered back, pulling on his ear. He swatted me away playfully, giggling.  
  
"Well," Peter said, "there you have it. The race starts right about....." He paused.  
  
The boys held their breath, almost as if afraid to miss the signal.  
  
"NOW!!" He shouted as he soared forward.  
  
The boys yelled protests at his having had a head start and followed swiftly behind, trotting on short little legs.  
  
I stood for a moment by my willow made home. I then walked inside, returning a few seconds later, a delicately thing sword, in my hand.  
  
"I'll be damned if I let them have all the fun." I claimed, swinging the sword in a graceful arch through the air, and I set out for my own adventure.  
  
I had no plan of where I wanted to go or what exactly I was looking for, but whatever it is you search for you always find it in Neverland.  
  
Strangely my search was quiet enough, with only distant shouts of the boys carried on the wind now and then. More often then not I stopped not to pick up a book but to rise up on my toes to smell an enticing flower, spotted deep purples, or closed in a tight bud to have them open under the light brush of my fingers.  
  
After a while I forgot that I had gone in search of any books at all. The breeze had me distracted as it played in my skirts, whipping the folds around my legs, pulling at my hair, and pushing me boldly forward into some unnatural, breathtaking dance.  
  
The butterflies had followed from the willow and they clung to my hair, and followed the sweeping motion of my arms as I danced, creating elaborate designs in the air.  
  
Notes of a song came unbidden to my lips, but not unwelcome. It was in the air all around me. Like a heavy perfume, of summer days, grassy hills on which to roll........innocence.  
  
I felt innocent and pure, untouched by my grown up worries.  
  
The dance became triumphant, as I moved faster. After five spins in a row, the wind ceased to blow. It just stopped. I stood slightly dizzy in a clearing of trees, breathing heavily. It seemed to dawn on me then that most of the fluttering wings of the butterflies had stilled and only one was left now. It hissed my hand with it's fine feelers and then it floated off. Instead of making me smile, it instead settled a deep uneasiness in my middle.  
  
My ears tried desperately to hear even the chirp of insects nesting in the deep of the ground, but I heard nothing in the forest. Nothing at all.  
  
Something was coming.  
  
'Hide.' A voice seemingly behind my ear whispered.  
  
"What?" I asked, spinning around to ask whoever had spoken.  
  
'Hide." Came the breathy, familiar voice again, with urgency.  
  
I asked no more question and resting my eyes on a wild tree in front of me I hid my sword behind a bush of bright pink and orange flowers, and then began to climb the great height of the tree.  
  
The erie silence continued. Not even the living tree beneath me dared to breathe. I climbed a good way up, enough so that I could still see the jungle floor.  
  
A strange sound stated to grow, like the sound of a great snake slithering beneath the ferns. I strained my eyes and peered forward a bit. The sound grew in volume and I caught a few words of a boisterous song.  
  
Yo ho, Yo ho  
  
He fell into the sea  
  
They thought that this could stop him  
  
But he's alive as alive can be  
  
Yo ho, Yo ho  
  
His eyes were black, dark deathly black  
  
They thought him gone  
  
But look!  
  
He's back!!  
  
Loud, jarring laughter hit the silence like a slap. The tree quivered in fear, and I clung to it in excitement.  
  
"Pirates!" I whispered, gleefully, as the large group of bullies entered the clearing. Why, I could even recognize a few from Wendy's descriptions of them. Rock, a slit across his eye from falling down a mountain side. And Pale Pat, the deathly white Albino! They were perfectly horrid, and I was quite enjoying myself watching them.  
  
An elegant carrier entered with four more pirates carrying it on their backs.  
  
"Stop!" A cold demanding voice barked from the interior.  
  
That one word seized me in an iron grip and I found that my arms were wrapped around the trunk as if it would save me from the feeling of being dragged under by that voice.  
  
The men stopped.  
  
"Wait......." The voice murmured. My hands clutched the bark beneath my fingers, cracking some in between them.  
  
A strong looking hand was thrust through the curtains, and there it waited until one lone butterfly, perhaps the one that kissed me, flew down and landed gently on it, unfolding it's wings.  
  
In one quick and deadly jerk the hand was clamped shut, swallowing up the small creature. I gasped in silent horror as the hand opened and dropped the crush yellow wings to the ground.  
  
"There's one here.........search high and low. And do not stop til the maggoty scum is found!" The men scurried to do as they were told, almost as if they had been whipped into action.  
  
"Search the trees if you must, you know how the little urchins operate!" The voice cried, then suddenly proclaimed, "Smee! My hat!"  
  
If they searched in the trees I would most likely be found. I looked wildly around for any means of escape.  
  
"Cap't! Cap't!" A shout rang out from the base of my tree. I looked down to see Rock, "I found it Cap't!"  
  
"Then climb up," The voice said as if losing patience with a small child, "and GET it."  
  
Rock began to climb, and I began to pray. A scabby, rough hand clawed at my ankle. With a disgusted shriek I kicked out and I heard the cry as Rock fell.  
  
"That is the last time I pray." I muttered. A vine greeted my eyes to the right. I couldn't see where it connected and had absolutely no idea if it would hold me, but more were climbing up now.  
  
"Oh hell," I shrugged my shoulders, "What else can I do?"  
  
As an answer to my own question I grabbed a hold of the vine, squeezed my eyes tightly shut, and jumped from the tree.  
  
A cry of outrage assaulted my ear, "After it you scugs, or you'll meet with a fate worse than cruel death!"  
  
Wind whistled in my ears as I opened my eyes to find I flung past the many pirates trying to surround me. Their arms lashed out to catch me but I was far too fast for them. I threw my head back and let out a laugh. They leapt back as if the sound stung them. I laughed again, a carefree sound. Like music. Like Peter.  
  
One pirate stepped in front of the path. I screamed in delight as I put my legs forward and knocked him off his feet with a grunt.  
  
A shot broke the air as well as the vine and I toppled down, rolling a couple times, to land on my side. I picked up my skirts still laughing. It was all a game. Hide-and-Seek! Tag! I was hitching on gulps of air as I stood, shaking with suppressed laughter and only realized they were dry sobs when I was caught from behind, spun around and dragged back. But never being one to accept defeat I fought them for everything I was worth.  
  
"Knaves! Blackhearts!!" I screamed in fury, "Get your disgusting hands off of me this instant! I doubt your precious Captain could teach the pain I'll wreak on you if you do not unhand me!" I growled, twisting in their grasp.  
  
"Oooooo!" One laughed, " an' what be that?! Girlie!" He laughed again.  
  
Now Wendy and I had similar tempermants and that was simply the last straw!  
  
I threw myself at him while the Albino held my other arm, enough to kick him where I knew ladies kicked when their virtue was compromised.  
  
"Never call me, girlie!" I shouted as he sank to his knees in obvious pain.  
  
Pale Pat knocked me to the ground savagely as he went to help his comrade. The needles and wildthorns on the ground scratched into my palm. I pulled in a sharp breath and when I expelled a harsh, "Bastard." A dark chuckle roared in my ears.  
  
I stiffened as I realized I was inches from a pair of well polished black boots. I slowly inched my back straight, taking in the finely tailored pant legs, but not any further than that. I was suddenly more afraid than I ever had been. The chills were sweeping me like a horrible winter wind, the ones that often made the moors howl in despair in the country. A strong hand was offered to me, one finger bejewled with a ruby, the hand that took the life of the butterfly.  
  
Hesitantly, I slipped my hand in his, and I was pulled to my feet. I kept my eyes lowered. I couldn't' bring myself to look. I wanted it to be pretend, another game. For it to be Peter dressed in a pirates clothing, putting on one of his voices, saying loudly and clearly, "Aha! I have caught you! Now you must read us all stories! And even worse you must sing!"  
  
But it was not Peter's boyish and small hand that tilted my face up, nay, not even a hand, but a cold steel hook.  
  
My eyes were leveled with a strange shade of peri-winkle blue orbs. Pale skin. Curled black hair, as any darkness could be, the oppressive darkness of shadowed corners at night. The corner of his cruel mouth raised in a smirk, accenting his stylish moustache and slight beard. He wore all black as the perfectly evil should do.  
  
"Well......" His deep voice purred. A black voice, just like Wendy had said. Black with poison, threatening, chilling, and.........forbidden. "I must say this is quite a surprise."  
  
I gulped. The ice covering my throat shattered painfully, I found my voice, and spoke.  
  
"Likewise.........Hook." I spat.  
  
The man before me merely smiled, disarmingly. 


	4. Fight with Pain

Common Knowledge: Peter Pan has dark sexual undertones. Hook has dark sexual OVER tones, and Me I do not own either.  
  
~*~**~*~**~~*~*~*~*~**~*~~  
  
Sitting in Wendy's room while she whispered about the tales of Neverland, whenever she spoke of Hook, it became still much like the forest had when he had entered it. The silence, every young girl knows of, when in the middle of the night, the quiet decends on you like a heavy quilt, suffocating you. Presses down upon you, to the point where your hear beat thunders in your ears, beating at your eyes, and your breath hitches so that you can do nothing more than wait with baited breath until the shadow moves, and passes over.  
  
Even now the true words fail me. They linger in my mouth uncomfortably.  
  
As I looked into the cruelly structured face of James Hook, I can say no more to describe the feeling that ran through me. The memory of that darkness, pressing down.  
  
I felt my true age slam into me. My years made me straighten my back, made me step back from the point of the hook, my hand fluttering to the folds of my robe clutching it closed.  
  
I tried to ignore the way his eyes slid over my body, as I shook my head, "I............I don't understand this."  
  
"You are a child. We are pirates. You are surrounded.............with no escape." His smile widened reminding me of the nursery rhyme about the crocodile who smiled right before he ate you. A smile that didn't reach his eyes, "I fail to see what is so very hard to understand."  
  
His bullies laughed as if Hook had pointed at them and cued them into their overly exaggerated bellows.  
  
I caught a hold of something inside me my age lived on...............the thick strand of sharp sarcasm.  
  
"Ha, ha," I mocked dryly, "How ever SO clever," I sneered, the cocky sound of my voice grating against their cheer. Silence fell, "but I was actually more confused as to your very alive state of appearance since I do believe the last time you were seen, it was falling into the jaws of a clock-ticking crocodile."  
  
My sarcasm had crack like a whip, leaving all agitated and fearful of Hook's response.  
  
"So," he began glancing around at his Bullies, "I can only take a gander that you are one of Pan's new wretched and poor excuse for a recruit? I thought he had learned where young girls lead him."  
  
Another cued laughter from the surrounding pirates.  
  
"Your power is impressive," I mocked, "to make a couple of dogs bark at you mere command." I scoffed.  
  
The change was instant. From smirking, the arrogant smile of an aristocrat, his face twisted into a dark look of rage as he slammed his hook into the bark of the tree behind me, forcing my back to it with a cry.  
  
"I have an even greater talent," He drew out the word like a growl, "for making annoying little girls scream in pain."  
  
"I have yet to scream." I pointed out boldly, still wrapped in my blanket of anger and insolent sarcasm.  
  
"Yet." Hook said darkly.  
  
I cannot describe the searing pain that gripped me as I found the hook digging into my shoulder. My body reacted instantly, my hand surging forward to grasp the shoulder of his black velvet dress coat, tightening on the fabric trying to dull the pain. My mouth opened in a soundless cry. I closed my eyes in pain as behind them hot tears gathered. The hook was yanked form my flesh, my eyes shot open as another wave of hot pain ripped through me. I gripped my shoulder, the blood pooling between my fingers.  
  
Sharp azul eyes bored back into me, as shaking gasps rocked my frame.  
  
He raised a brow, seemingly to say, "More?"  
  
I found my voice. It was raspy and soft but hard, "No. Not yet."  
  
Hook nodded his head as if my answer pleased him, "Soon." He assured me, "I'll see to it."  
  
"As I will see to your death!" I spat, "Again."  
  
"Will you now?" He asked. His voice spurred me like a frightened horse, "You, a small slip of a girl, who knows nothing about the true pain I can bring? A little girl who doesn't know what I have done in the past?"  
  
"I know plenty. The stories informed me of all your past exploits."  
  
"Stories?" His eyes lit up like a match suddenly struck to life. If I had been paying any attention at all I would have seen the erie resemblence to Peter when I said the exact same thing.  
  
"Yes," I continued my temper rising, "And all they have proved to me is that you are nothing more than a coward."  
  
"A coward with a hook." He reminded me, threatening, brandishing the steel demon.  
  
"A coward none the less." I shot back. Perhaps it was the loss of blood I had endured, but suddenly I was reckless and I couldn't stop the words coming out of my mouth.  
  
"You certainly are fearless." He noted with some interest.  
  
I was stupid beyond reason for being so but this comment made me feel insufferably flattered, "A mother has to be." I claimed drawing myself up.  
  
"Ahhhh!" He chuckled in such a way that I was afraid as fast as I had been proud only a moment before, "I am to guess it was you who wrote that charming little welcome of our sails."  
  
"Yes, that was I." I admitted.  
  
"And I suppose you are the 'Mother' of Peter Pan and his brats?"  
  
"But of course, I certainly couldn't be yours." I sneered.  
  
"Don't be stupid girl," HE chuckled again, the sound making me wince against the trunk of the tree. Why wasn't he black with fury at my words? Could it be possible that my punishment for such comments was so terrible that it could make him smile like that? "We are pirates. We've no use for Mothers."  
  
I scoffed, "Forgive me, Captain, but I fear you would need a bakers dozen of Mothers to make you a true gentleman, as you try to present." Spinning around I glared at the Bullies, "To the point, you all need Mothers, very desperately."  
  
When I turned around it looked as if Hook were taking not of everyone of my hairs on my head. Nervously, I pulled on a strand. His eyes finally settled down on my eyes, "I think we'll take you up on that very generous offer..........Mother."  
  
"What?!"  
  
"You two," he summoned the brutes behind me, "tie and gag her, we don't want Pan down upon our heads."  
  
I was seized from behind.  
  
"No!" I shouted outraged.  
  
"You object to joining us?" Hook questioned with another arch of his brow.  
  
"Yes! I'd rather die!" I spat, struggling out of the others hold.  
  
"Very well then." He replied stepping closer, backing me up past the tree into a wild bush of orange flowers.  
  
He approached again. I stilled my feet. I would not sway this time. I kept my eyes wide to see him clearly. I would not buckle before such filth.  
  
"You know," he whispered as he towered over me, the trees seemed to contract around us, drawing him ever closer, "you are not the first Mother to say those exact same words."  
  
I felt myself smile. Wendy, of course. "Not will I be the last. Even if you do kill me, if that is what you really intend." My smile continued to grow as I fingered on of the full bloomed flowers of the bush. Underneath such sunset petals lay my sword, waiting to strike. I merely needed more time to get at it.  
  
"It is." The iron claw rose to me throat. I sucked in a breath as I balled my hands to fists at my side. He peered at me as if perplexed, "You do not turn your head or close your eyes. Why, girl?"  
  
My sense of pride returned as I let one of my hands plunge into the bush, "Because unlike some, Jas. Hook, I am no coward."  
  
"No." He murmured the smile becoming even more hideous, as his eyes remained on my face of his hook lowered to my skin. "No coward." He did not strike but with the sound of a heavy whisper like that of silk running over deadened leaves, he pulled my robe back, exposing my corset.  
  
My hands stopped their search for the hidden weapon and frantically pulled the robe tight again, as Hook watched on, his head cocked to one side almost daintly, I shook with embarrassment and a quivering heat raced to fill my face, as I seized the velvet blue cord, tying the robe so that no hook could remove it again.  
  
"Not even a girl................" He continued, a strange sound entering his voice, "but a woman."  
  
The word insulted me to the core. Hand rushing to the bush, withdrawing the beautifully gilded sword, it threatened for me at Hook's throat.  
  
"Take it back!" I demanded.  
  
He laughed, slashing the sword away with his hook. "You would challenge me, merely for the truth I told?" He asked, unsheathing his own sword, beginning to circle me.  
  
"For my honor I would fight all of your barbarians." I informed him coldly, readying my stance, "What great reason do you have to fight me?"  
  
I gripped my word with a sweaty hand as I blocked a blow clumsily, that jarred my arm.  
  
"Sheer amusement." Was his reply.  
  
With a grunt I pushed him away, he stumbled but a few steps, immediately righting himself. By some blind luck each swipe of the deadly sword I managed to avoid. I was on the constant defense, as the flurry of his attacks rained down on me. I felt dizzy, the blood from my shoulder wound had left me tired. I felt out of control.............I felt numb.............  
  
"You're slowing." Hook commented driving me back ever further.  
  
And suddenly I found everything funny!  
  
"I'm not the old one." I giggled.  
  
With a snarl, he knocked me to the ground. The prick like that of a sewing needle scraped my neck as Hook crouched to his knees in front of me, the sword lightly at my throat.  
  
"You fought bravely, if not foolishly, little girl. Indeed, I was thinking of inviting you to join our band of pirates, if it were not for that last fatal jest............."  
  
"Awww come on there, Cap't, she just be a wee lass............" One of the kinder looking pirates spoke out.  
  
I shrieked as Hook pulled out his gun with unbearable ease and shot him. The man fell dead.  
  
Pausing as if to ponder a puzzling thought the Captain once again turned to me, "Perhaps I should take Quintley's proposal to heart. Give you a choice. Choose to roam the seas with us or die?"  
  
"I like that idea!" Rock exclaimed from off to the side.  
  
"Shut up, you imbecile." Hook muttered.  
  
I really felt too tired to argue or fight anymore, I just wanted to be done with it all. I opened my mouth to answer, and Hook's brows rose expectingly.  
  
The breeze was back suddenly, cooling the sweat that trailed down my back. As the wind seemed to comfort me, it made the pirates ill at ease. They shifted from foot to foot, looking wildly up at the canopy of trees.  
  
'Wish.' The mysterious guiding voice from before whispered again at my ear.  
  
I faintly heard the flutter of wings or perhaps it was the rattle of branches tossed about by the growing wind.  
  
'Wish and Make!'  
  
"Time grows short." Hook snapped seeing he didn't have my attention, "What is your choice to be?"  
  
I looked up at him, and a smile at the right side of my mouth smirked, "May you grow a heart," I growled, "the day I answer you with a yes."  
  
He chuckled, "Clever little girl." He brushed a finger softly to my cheek, his lips quirking in irony, "Goodbye."  
  
I smiled cunningly, and blurted out suddenly, "Your fairy is dead.........and you were the one who killed her!"  
  
Shock. Utter shock. He hesitated, the words had stabbed him deeply, I did not hesitate. I kicked him squarely in the chest, sending him rolling back. Snatching up the sword from beside me, I stood up and wished, "No pain."  
  
'About bloody time!' The flutter came next to my ear with the slight jangle of bells.  
  
And suddenly...........I felt no pain.  
  
I approached Hook who had gotten to his feet, a murderous expression on his face. His sword had fallen, and gingerly I picked it up, tossing it to him.  
  
"Ready for another go, Hook?"  
  
'Wish again. Make! Make more!' The barely controlled excitement of the hushed bells rang in my ear.  
  
"Make me like Pan." I wished, the bells grew louder.  
  
Hook said nothing but attacked violently. Block, my hand did not shake this time. Parry, thrust, spin, block again. I smiled, a fight was merely a dance! Was this how Peter saw all of his battles?  
  
A slash of my blade and I cut off a golden tassle from Hook's coat. He was astonished and ducked as I swung the sword to his head, jumping into the air as he aimed a blow at me legs.  
  
"How?!" Came the angry scream from below me.  
  
I laughed, hands on my hips much like Peter. "Because I can wish. Because I haven't forgotten how to fly............." I swooped down dealing blows, backing him up, "And because my fairy lives! That's why!"  
  
As I fought Hook, a shot of golden light flittered among the pirates, knocking each out in rapid succession, screaming one word, 'FUN!!"  
  
My words, thoughts and actions exactly. Every move was an exhilarating rush.  
  
"Go back to your world, girl!" Hook shouted warning off my increasing blows, "You have no right to be here, you have GROWN!"  
  
"Then you have no business here as well, you cod-fish!" I shot back, laughing harshly.  
  
Our swords crossed over our heads.  
  
"Who are you that you know such things?" He asked.  
  
"I am the Mother of the Neverland, Guardian of the Lost Boys and Peter Pan!"  
  
With a shove he distangled our swords, sending me to the uneven ground.  
  
"You," he sneered, "are nothing more than Pan's latest game. He shall tire of you soon enough."  
  
I kicked his feet out from under him, rolling to my own feet, "You lying dog!" I shouted. How dare he talk about Peter that way?!  
  
He got to his knees wiping the corner of his mouth, a cut having landed the side of it, then to his feet.  
  
"Do you know how many Mother's he's had? How many he's tossed aside, never to think of again?"  
  
"Silence!" I commanded.  
  
The horrible grin was back on his face as he took deadly swings with his sword and I blocked them.  
  
"Shall I count them all for you?" He asked in a vicious sweetness of tone.  
  
The blade of his sword cut through my gown, slicing it up to my thigh.  
  
"Shall I tell you their names?"  
  
"Shut up!" I screamed as I dived at him.  
  
It was an incredibly stupid action to take and perhaps that's what saved me, he hadn't expected me to do it.  
  
We fell backwards both of us loosing our swords, as w tumbled down an embankment, a tangle of limbs. Reaching the bottom, I was pressed to the leafy ground and Hook was atop me.  
  
I felt suffocated, enclosed, and trapped by his presence. Like the old fear of shadows under beds and in closets. The swallowing darkness, perhaps the only thing I had ever truly been afraid of. The smothering darkness that Hook himself seemed to represent, and it was covering me. I let out a gasp of fear, as my eyes filled. My wishes made fell to tatters too close to this monster, and again I was myself, Catherine Morgan, Kate, sixteen, and I was terrified.  
  
Hooks chest rose and fell above me as mine did, his eyes flicking over my face.  
  
"What's your name, girl?" He husked.  
  
I gulped trying to stall my tears, "Catherine."  
  
"Catherine.........." He sighed, "Do you wish to die?"  
  
I struggled back a sob, "Do I have any choice?" Knowing the answer.  
  
"No." He said softly, smoothing back my hair with his hook.  
  
I could face death. I could face pain. But I could not face my loss of strength! And with his tender hand stroking my cheek and his cruel ice gaze he was unraveling my very composure.  
  
"Don't!" I hissed angrily, "Just get it bloody done with!" Furious tears were sliding down my cheek.  
  
He wiped a tear away gently and murmured, "Thus perish, Catherine, Mother of Peter Pan."  
  
The hook rose swiftly.........  
  
And was blocked by a shot of light. The buzz of angry bells filled the clearing. Whatever my fairy was it was strong. Within the next second Hook had been tossed over my head to land on his back.  
  
I lay there stunned for a moment or two when the bells shouted at me.  
  
'Move your ass, you twit! You think I beat him off ye just for ye to lay there?! Run for the woods. Friends be there to help thee. Now go!'  
  
I scrambled to my feet and took off at a run.  
  
"Damn girl!" Came the cry as I was pulled by my robe and spun around. I saw the shattered mirror iris's narrow in victory as a mind numbing pain ripped through my middle.  
  
Clutching my stomach, I pressed my hands to it, and fell to my knees in shock. My hair fell around my face as I gasped for air, only to have each breath scald my insides and send wave after wave of pain through me.  
  
I raised my head to blink up at the Captain who made the twilight around us darker and far more threatening. A gentle smile tugged at his lips.  
  
Evil.  
  
Pure evil.  
  
A shot rang out. Hook fell back, grasping his arm in shock, starring into the woods behind me.  
  
"You, Captain of the Jolly Roger, are not welcome to these lands." A strong deeply accented male voice rang out, "Leave at once or risk the sight of your own blood split."  
  
Hook did not back down.  
  
Another shot fired at his feet, making him jump back.  
  
"Do I have ta shoot off that disgrace of a wig on yer head, before yeh heed me? Go!"  
  
Tossing his sword aside Hook limped away.  
  
I gurgled a laugh, knowing my pixie had something to do with that.  
  
My knees could no longer sustain me and I fell back. The rush of footsteps approached. A boy about a year or two older than me hovered over me, anxiety and worry written plainly on his features.  
  
"Jesus............." He muttered prying away my hands from my abdomen, "He almost had you, the cat-skinned dwarf."  
  
"Are you friend or foe?" I asked a cough racking my frame.  
  
A smirk swept his mouth, "Well that all depends if I interfered in enough time ta save ya."  
  
"Did you?" I asked faintly, feeling my lids close heavily.  
  
A soft chuckle greeted me, but the tone was serious, "We'll have ta see, won't we?" 


End file.
